The Forgotten Pencil

Nobody sees you

A tiny scrap of wood

Strewn forlornly

Atop a green shelf.



Nobody knows

Your story

But me.



She used to know too.



She was the one

Who found you

In the CVS store

Trapped inside

A plastic prison.



Yet you stood there

Straight and tall.

Shining your green letters

Proudly.



Bragging

Of your youth.



She chose you.

Out of all the others

In the store.



And in the car

She unlocked your prison

And held you

For the first time

With her chubby little hands

Eyes filled with curiosity.



The second time

She was five years old.

She pressed you

Too hard

Against the paper

But you did not mind.

You allowed her

To shave off your lead

As she wrote

Her first word.



She beamed smugly

Eyes filled with pride.



Many hands guided you

Across many papers.



You grew shorter

And shorter.

Your tip

Grew duller

And duller.

Until one day

It broke.



And that was the day

That she broke

Too.



You were sharpened

Once more

While she was still broken

Beyond repair.



The last time

She was 15 years old.

She held you

With long, slender fingers.



She guided you

Across a white page.

You etched out

Her last word.



She picked up a knife

Eyes filled with tears.



And you sat

Next to the note

As she dampened you

With blood.



Nobody sees you

A tiny scrap of wood

Strewn forlornly

Atop a green shelf.



Nobody knows

Your story

But me.



She used to know too.